


world hard and cold... leg soft and warm

by cursive



Category: NU'EST, Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Love Confessions, M/M, also Minhyun in stockings, and Seongwu being very dumb about it, spicy but not smutty (yet)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 16:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16537880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cursive/pseuds/cursive
Summary: seongwu never stops learning about the idol life from minhyun, even over eight months after their debut.he doesn't expect to learn so much abouthimselfafter seeing minhyun in nothing but a pair of sheer black tights.





	world hard and cold... leg soft and warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fairyslush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyslush/gifts).



> dear bella:
> 
> thank you for everything. you're one of the most wonderful people that have happened to me this past year and i don't think this fic will be enough to show you just how much i appreciate your existence in my life. in any case, i still hope you'll enjoy it. <3
> 
> dear jess:  
> happy (very belated) birthday! thank you for inviting me and for believing in me during this horrible slump i've been through for a while now. i'm really glad we also got to become friends through this wondeful and flawed fandom and i hope for many more years of writing and suffering together for us <3
> 
> now if you could kindly pretend you don't know who this is, that'd be a+

After almost eight months of debut, busy schedules and barely having time to sleep, eat, or even breathe are things Seongwu and his ten other bandmates had, tragically, already gotten used to. Sleep-deprived rants accidentally gone public aside, they had been doing a pretty good job dealing with barely having any time at all, thanks to a few secrets they had been taught by their seniors in the group.

Namely, Minhyun, when it came to Seongwu’s struggles.

 _Lesson number one is don’t let your body stop_ , he had told him the first time they had back-to-back schedules that lasted over the span of 24 hours and only granted them time for quick naps inside the van while moving around from one place to another. _Don’t lean back when you sit down, don’t sit down for more than five minutes, drink lots of water. Yes, water, coffee won’t keep you hydrated._

Seongwu had always been a fast learner; that, however, never stopped him from falling asleep during makeup time. Waking up was always a struggle, and Minhyun’s stern face and disapproving glare when he had to be nearly slapped awake were already engraved in Seongwu’s memory as Something You Wouldn’t Like To Wake Up To.

(even worse when it was Jisung, much less reserved and with the _hyung_ _authority_ to actually slap him awake when they were running late and Seongwu was acting whiny; he definitely doesn’t miss sharing a room with him, because that only meant he would be slapped awake earlier than everyone else)

 _Lesson number two is keep yourself busy while you wait_ , Minhyun taught him while trying to keep him awake on the makeup chair. _Play games on your phone, kkt someone, keep talking to me—hey, I’m serious, don’t stop talking to me, Seongwu—_

—which wasn’t a difficult thing to do, exactly, because Minhyun had the terrible habit of _never shutting up_ , and as used as Seongwu was to Minhyun’s voice, it was easy to fall asleep to its pleasantness, present even in his weird, robot-like laughter.

Many more lessons came; Seongwu had liked to stick close to Minhyun since their Produce 101 days for several reasons (“he’s nice to be around, we’re the same age so I’m more comfortable, he makes me laugh even when it’s not his intention, people say we look good side by side, he smells _really nice_ —huh”), but the easiest one to explain was _I actually learn a lot from him_.

And that he did, from simple _idol stuff_ like how to respond to certain things the fans would ask or tell him or what to do with his hands during concerts when they were not performing to short lessons on how to make household chores a little easier, such as how to properly fold a shirt so it wouldn’t get wrinkled when stacking it with other shirts, or even how to clean off dust from plushies and dolls, which came in very handy when Seongwu started collecting the seal plushies his fans gave him every fansign and performance.

Granted, not everything Minhyun taught him was exactly _useful_ or interesting to learn (he could certainly do without Minhyun’s endless droning about _how to tie a proper knot on the trash bags to avoid accidents while taking the trash out_ ), but what mattered at the end of the day was knowing that Minhyun cared enough to want to teach him. His same-aged friend could be a little petty and overly clingy at times (although he always respected Seongwu’s need for personal space, sometimes _a little too much_ , in Seongwu’s opinion—some extra hugging would be greatly appreciated, sometimes), and many of those _learning moments_ would turn into small fights over who was _really_ doing what the right way, but they were never serious fights; Seongwu actually found it a little funny to watch Minhyun get worked up over _folding clothes_.

Bottom line, Minhyun was a _really_ good friend to Seongwu, and someone he could always come to whenever he needed anything, from simple comfort to an honest opinion only a same-aged friend would feel entitled to sharing.

(it was easy to explain their bond through their birth year, as easy as it was to see that they might not have become as close if they were of differing ages)

What is _not_ so easy, Seongwu thinks, is figuring out how to feel at ease in new and unexpected situations _without_ Minhyun around.

He feels wary as he looks around the dressing room assigned for him and Daniel for their third or fourth photoshoot that week, this time not an endorsement one but a _fashion_ one for a magazine following their next comeback. Daniel was another steady companion, albeit a younger one, and although they had at times dropped honorifics and adopted a more informal, and ultimately more intimate, banter, their relationship was not quite the same as the one Seongwu had with Minhyun, and it showed the most on the awkward but understanding silences Seongwu shared with Daniel in helpless situations such as the one they currently found themselves in.

Granted, Minhyun had to be somewhere in that studio, as said photoshoot was for all members for a change, but Seongwu hadn’t seen him since they entered the building and were ushered into different small rooms to try on every outfit planned for that day.

Fashion photoshoots should be nothing new to most of them – even less so for Seongwu, who may have actually more _professional experience_ as a model than as an actor or a singer; he had even done a _wedding_ photoshoot before, nothing could get more awkward than that.

Or so he thought.

The concept of the photoshoot was _edgier_ than any of the other tamer, good boy-esque ones they had done before. With a tougher concept planned for their upcoming title song MV, they needed an upgrade to their image as well. The idea, according to the stylists, was to _think outside the box_ , making use of unusual articles of clothing and the occasional defiance of gender roles through ambiguous outfits that were clearly _for men_ but had a slightly _tough femme_ twist to them.

A Utilikilt™, in Seongwu’s case.

Now, he had always been a firm believer that clothing knew no gender (an idea that was only reinforced within his ideals after meeting Minki, who blatantly defied the concept of _masculinity_ itself in a much braver way than Seongwu would ever dare to), and he was not new to the idea of skirts as part of male fashion (every hip hop boy group from the early 2010s had a kilt concept at one point, he remembers that well), but wearing them for a photoshoot as a _very prominent_ member of a _very prominent_ group still didn’t sit well with him.

(surely, groups like BTS had pulled this before and turned out trending positively; being the nation’s family-friendly group, there was a chance they would get backlash because of their new concept, but that was a risk worth taking, according to their managers, _because PR or some bullshit like that_ , Jisung had eloquently explained to the other members earlier that week)

The outfit in its entirety was not silly, when put together: dark colors, a black velvet sweater that complimented well the skirt ( _Utilikilt™_ , Seongwu quickly corrects himself), black ankle high socks and dark polished shoes; for accessories, a black ring choker and a single cross earring.

His predicament isn’t too bad, if not for the skirt; behind him Daniel struggles to put on the fishnet shirt he had to wear under the rest of his outfit, and despite wearing long shorts, he looks as uncomfortable as Seongwu when his bad thumb catches on the fishnets for the fourth time.

“These are—“, Daniel tries to argue, wincing in pain as he detangles his hand from the shirt and closes it into a fist, thumb still jutting out due to his injury, “ _fuck—_ these are so weird. I mean, pretty cool concept and all, but I just feel weird. Do you think they’re gonna make the kids wear stuff like this, too?”

Seongwu shrugs, sitting on the vanity stool to pull up his ankle sock. “They’ll probably pick tamer stuff for them, but this _is_ a group photoshoot, so I think they’ll be matching with us somehow.”

When Daniel finally manages to fully push his arm through the sleeve (and _whoops_ in excitement before he remembers he has to do the same with the other arm), he turns to the elder, frowning. “They’re not gonna put _fishnets_ on Daehwi, right? That would be just… gross.”

“I hope they won’t”, Seongwu chuckles warily, getting up and catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror before quickly looking away, the skirt still too foreign a concept for him to wrap his head around so easily. “They’ll do chokers and the whole soft goth concept, I guess. Do you think anyone else gets to wear a skirt?”

“Maybe Sungwoon hyung?”, the younger replies distractedly, tongue jutting out of his mouth in concentration as he closes his other hand in a fist and tries to quickly shove his way through the offending sleeve – and fails when his thumb catches on a hole midway. “ _Ouch!_ Or—or Jisung hyung—ohh, Minhyun hyung would look good in a skirt, too, did you see that video where he—”

“Uh, no”, Seongwu quickly shoots him down, frowning at the idea of Minhyun in a skirt – maybe because he pictures his friend in a _schoolgirl skirt_ , at first, thanks to Daniel’s reminder, then he reminds himself of the actual name of what he’s wearing. He wore a long one on said video, Seongwu remembers better than he had expected him to, which wasn’t very flattering due to the nature of long skirts that end somewhere in the ankles and make everyone’s legs look shorter and kind of stubby, the opposite of what Minhyun’s were—

 _—which is not the point here_ , Seongwu gently reminds himself even as his mind betrays him one more time with a flash of Minhyun wearing a skirt that ended right above his knees—another bad idea altogether, because short skirts don’t always work out well on long legs and maybe Minhyun should just drop the idea of skirts and wear something tighter to better show off his—

“I mean, if they make one of the kids wear it, it’ll probably be Jihoon or Woojin since they’re, huh, _adults_ now, and I’d be betting on Jihoon because of the whole _pretty_ thing but I think he’d put up a fight—“, Daniel’s blabbering rips Seongwu from his thoughts, but at this point he has no idea what the younger is even talking about, “—so what I mean is we’re probably gonna see Woojin in a skirt if it depends on Jihoon being cooperative.” He chuckles; Seongwu can only _huh_ at him, mouth hanging open in confusion. “I still think Minhyun hyung would look the best in one like yours, though. And it would make sense—you guys are same aged, from that to matching outfits it’s just one short step!”

Seongwu blinks at him.

“Uh”, he looks down at himself, at the thick and slightly itchy fabric of the _Utilikilt_ ™, thinks about Daniel’s out of context _it would make sense—you guys are same-aged_ , and decides he might need more than Daniel’s distracted rambling to feel fully comfortable with the idea of having his pictures taken wearing a skirt.

(a _Utilikilt™, goddamnit_ , his brain argues)

“I think I’m done with my outfit”, he says at last, almost running a hand through his hair before he reminds himself it has just been styled and he will probably get a long scolding session if anything is out of place when the shoot starts. “I’m gonna—check on Minhyun—or, uh, see if anyone else shared my… _fate_.”

“Sure, hyung”, Daniel hums, still fighting the fishnet sleeve. “I’ll join you when—son of a _bitch_ —when I’m done.”

Seongwu nods, almost taking pity on the boy and offering to help him out with the sleeve, but a gut feeling that Daniel probably wouldn’t want him to do that stops him. He settles instead for an amicable “take your time” before he leaves the safe confines of their dressing room to wander outside in his new _attire_.

It’s just his luck that he runs right into Jaehwan halfway through the dimly lit hallway.

“Holy shit, they made you wear _that_?”, the younger cackles after squinting at Seongwu to make sure it was really him. “They gave me these—”, he shuffles his hands, grasping at the intricate ends of his shirt sleeves, “these frilly things. Jisung hyung’s outfit is super lacy, too, but—it’s not a skirt.”

“It’s a _kilt_ ”, Seongwu corrects him in mild annoyance.

“Potato, potato”, Jaehwan shrugs back, looking down at the offending piece of clothing. “It looks kinda cool, though. Lots of pockets.”

Seongwu stares down as well, slightly pulling the skirt up to get a better look at the endless spacey pockets spread all over it. “Yeah, that’s how you can tell it was made for men. My sister always complains about how even when she bought baggy jeans all the pockets would be fake because that’s how feminine couture works, but men—we get to have as many pockets as we want.” He reaches for his phone on one of the many pockets of the kilt, frowning when he sees a Kakaotalk notification from Minhyun from less than five minutes ago.

Jaehwan shrugs, not really interested in the piece of fashion trivia Seongwu just offered him, and pulls at his sleeves. “These are itchy”, he comments distractedly, glancing at Seongwu and then at his phone. “Ah, right. Minhyun hyung kicked Woojin out of their dressing room and told me to go fetch you for him. Something about _same-aged solidarity_.”

“Huh”, Seongwu hums, unlocking his phone to check Minhyun’s message, feeling an inward surge of satisfaction in knowing that his good, close, handsome friend wanted to talk to him as much as he had wanted to talk to him, too, photoshoot preparations be damned. “I’ll go check on him. Do you think he got the shortest end of the stick and they gave him the ugliest outfit just because they know he can pull anything off?”

“That’s a possibility”, the younger concedes, letting out a subdued chuckle. “Go console him, he probably got the frilly bloomers they showed us earlier.”

Seongwu barks out a laugh. “That would be just too cruel.” Minhyun’s message contains a simple _help me_ that should probably worry Seongwu, because Minhyun’s not one to act as dramatic as Seongwu himself, even in the worst situations. No, Minhyun was excitable but level-headed, and Seongwu knew for a fact that it took a lot of effort to throw him off, no matter how weird the situation he was put in could be. “But he’s being a little weird. I’ll make sure everything’s okay, can you tell Jisung hyung our whereabouts?”

“Sure thing”, Jaehwan nods before walking away. “I’ll just try to find the snacks first. ‘M hungry.”

“Careful, or they’re going to tell you to diet again”, Seongwu quips, laughing when the only response he receives is a middle finger from his friend ( _the disrespect_ , he thinks before he decides he doesn’t care enough to call Jaehwan out).

The walk to the dressing room Minhyun is supposed to be is a short one – they were quite a few rooms apart, but the place was not that big to begin with. He smiles to himself when he sees Minhyun’s – and Woojin’s, now kicked out – name on the door, and decides he should probably knock first, even if only to mess with his friend.

He rasps gently at the door, frowning when he hears crashing noises coming from inside the room. Maybe knocking was a bad idea, he thinks.

“Minhyunie?”, Seongwu calls tentatively, hands on the doorknob, “are you in there?”

There is a pause, and then a familiar, sweet voice.

“Seongwu-yah?”, Minhyun answers, voice slightly muffled by the door and thin walls between them. “Are you alone?”

Seongwu nods, then realizes Minhyun can’t quite see him, yet. “Uh, yeah? I don’t usually respond to friends’ distress calls by bringing more people along. Why did you even kick Woojin out for?”

“Oh”, Minhyun pauses again, then he lets out a small, breathy laugh. “It’s just—you should come on in. I’ll be done soon, I’m—I’m just a little shy about the others seeing me like this, but if it’s you then I don’t mind.”

 _Same age privileges_ , Seongwu thinks to himself before he turns the doorknob, feeling both thrilled and slightly chilled at the ominous tone in Minhyun’s voice. He chooses not to think too much about it; Minhyun had probably been forced to pull off a weird hairdo or to wear the puffy pants or something bizarre of the likes, and he had to be ready to hold back from laughing if his friend was genuinely that stressed about it.

Once he opens the door, it’s not really laughter that he has to hold back.

Seongwu has many regrets in his life – not studying harder during high school, the wedding photoshoot, not deleting all of his social media earlier, to name a few –, but there is nothing he regrets more than opening that goddamned door.

Not because Minhyun looks silly or just plain ugly to the point of becoming terrifying to look at – an impossible feat, in Ong Seongwu’s humble opinion, nothing can ever make Minhyun look ugly –, but because of the effects of seeing how Minhyun was dressed – or how he was _not_ dressed, to be correct.

Standing in the middle of the room, facing the mirror and (thankfully) away from Seongwu, Minhyun stood, _almost_ gloriously naked if not for the black pantyhose that clung to the lower half of his body like a second skin.

“I’m not sure about these”, Seongwu vaguely registers Minhyun say, his tone a clear indicator that there is a frown on his face. Seongwoo would look up at him if he could, stare at his friend’s concerned face and try to find something to say to comfort him and reassure him that _nothing in this world_ could possibly make him look bad.

(except maybe that horrible hair he had back in his _other_ debut days, face still too young to hold the weight of the early 2010s fashion. No, even now, Minhyun would _not_ suit that hairstyle at all)

“What do you think?”, Minhyun’s voice echoes in the vague emptiness that is Seongwu’s mind the moment he lays eyes on his bare back, down to the dark waistline that ends where his waist dips in the furthest—he tries not to stare too hard at the dimples on his lower back or at the curve of his ass, but moving his eyes down proves to be an even bigger mistake than walking into the dressing room.

Minhyun has great legs.

That much is no news for anyone – any person with eyes could see that Minhyun had amazing long legs that suited his princelike figure, with pretty ankles ( _who even thinks ankles are pretty_ , Seongwu wants to question himself) and thighs that fill out slimmer pants nicely and end in flared up hips that contrasted nicely with the curved shape of his small waist—

Which was definitely _not_ something Seongwu thought much about his good friend, no.

“Seongwu?”, Minhyun calls him, looking at him through the mirror, and Seongwu finally snaps out of his leg-induced trance to look up at his friend, zeroing in at his crimson red ears at first before realizing he probably looks the same if the heat that takes over his face and rushes down his stomach are anything to go by.

He respectfully turns his face away when Minhyun catches his eyes, clears his throat, feels suddenly aware he has no idea what to do with his hands.

(inwardly thanks his _Utilikilt_ ™ for bravely concealing the one reaction he is trying the hardest to ignore)

“You look good”, Minhyun tells him, and Seongwu realizes he probably thinks _Seongwu_ is the one embarrassed about being seen like that. “I like the skirt.”

“You too”, Seongwu blurts out before he can help himself, goes for a quick save. “I mean, these—they’re okay. You’re wearing— _more than that_ , right?”

He decides that looking away from his friend is very rude, so he trains his eyes on Minhyun’s face, because looking anywhere else, even at his reflection, was coming too close to danger zone for him. Minhyun blinks at him, then looks down at himself one more time, laughing when he realizes what Seongwu means.

“Of course I am. Shorts—they’re going for some sort of _little prince_ concept, I think? I’ll even wear a jabot with my shirt.” He turns around before Seongwu can tell him _don’t_ , sliding a hand across his hips and waist as he does so. Seongwu tries looking _beyond_ Minhyun, but his eyes ultimately fall at the curve of his ass in the mirror reflection, forcing him to return to his stare-at-his-face-strategy. “I just don’t know why these are necessary”, the elder pouts, crossing his arms in front of his (very toned, very _out there_ ) chest—Seongwu curses himself inwardly for letting his eyes stray again. “They even told me I shouldn’t wear boxers under them—”

 _Goddamnit_ , now Seongwu just _has_ to take another peek downwards, eyes immediately jumping up and back to Minhyun’s own when he realizes the fabric is _not_ opaque but has a transparent sheen to it and _he can see the outline of Minhyun’s dick through it_.

(for good measure, he chances another glance at the reflection behind Minhyun, holds back a whimper at the view and returns to regretting every life decision that led him to that dressing room)

Strangely enough, it doesn’t look vulgar on Minhyun—Seongwu doubts anything would ever look vulgar on someone like him; if anything, it only heightens the alluring aura about him that everyone seems to love so much, given that Minhyun is styled accordingly to what he’s set to wear, his soft reddish hair neatly arranged and smoky eyeshadow adding to the ethereal effect they seemed to be going for. Hell, Seongwu would love to take a picture of him just like that to keep that moment to himself—

Wait, what.

Minhyun even _twirls_ – like _he_ is the one wearing a skirt, not Seongwu – then laughs to himself. “But I have to admit, these are pretty comfy—I’m just not sure how good they really look on me."

 _God_ , what more did Minhyun want Seongwu to say to validate him? To admit that not only Minhyun looks _good_ in those but also _scorching hot_ to the point Seongwu just wants to leave that dressing room to either splash cold water on his face (and piss off the makeup noonas) or get off in the nearest bathroom stall because his boxers feel like they’re about to burst (and piss off the stylist noonas)?

“They look—it looks great on you, trust me”, Seongwu manages to choke out before Minhyun can question his behavior any more. “Is that all? Can I go?”, and he tries his hardest not to sound strained, but he just sounds constipated in his efforts.

Minhyun pouts ( _stop that_ , Seongwu wants to yell at him), something in Seongwu’s answer visibly disappointing him. “I was hoping you’d stick around until I’m done.”

“I—“, Seongwu _really_ wants to say no, to come up with any excuse possible to just escape that situation and cool off before the shoot starts, but the combo of pouting Minhyun + semi-naked Minhyun + Minhyun in pantyhose holds so much power over him he stays frozen in place, nodding slowly as his mouth concedes before his brain does. “Okay. I can do that.”

 _You can’t do that_ , a voice that, strangely enough, seems to come from below his waistline rather than from his brain, tells him.

Minhyun beams at him, eyes turning into crescents (another powerful combo of smiling semi-naked Minhyun in sheer black stockings that should be _banned_ from the entirety of South Korea and maybe even the rest of the world), turning away from him to pick at the outfit laid out on a chair. “I can always count on you.”

Seongwu rolls his eyes, relief washing over him when he realizes his first reaction to Minhyun’s bullshit _still is_ light exasperation. “I still don’t know why I indulge you.”

“Because you love me”, Minhyun singsongs just as he bends over to slide a leg into his shorts, and that is probably the deadliest combo, because Seongwu chooses that moment to look at him—and immediately regret being born, for a brief moment of full awareness of how exactly his brain (and _body_ , in its entirety) is reacting to the imagery.

It is one thing to realize you feel attraction to someone – it is another thing entirely to realize the affection you felt for someone is now tainted by that very attraction, and that you’ll probably never look at that person the same way again. Seongwu knows – he also knows he should know better than to let that happen, especially when it came to a groupmate.

Minhyun, blissfully unaware of his friend’s inner turmoil, hums a song under his breath, wiggling as he pushes the shorts up and past his very round backside.

 _What the hell_ , Seongwu curses inwardly, grabbing the doorknob so tightly his knuckles go white.

“Actually, I gotta go”, he mumbles, unconvincing even to his own ears. He needs to leave. “I forgot—I forgot my phone in my dressing room. Yeah.”

“But Seongwu—“, Minhyun tries to reason, only for Seongwu to turn back and slam the door behind him.

It’s only when Seongwu is safely outside, breathing heavily as he tries to slow down his racing heart, that he realizes he had been holding his phone the whole time.

_Shit._

He intercepts Guanlin, who happened to be passing by the short corridor, idly chewing on a banana, and pulls him aside next to Minhyun’s dressing room door.

“You”, he tells their youngest, too distressed to notice that Guanlin was the _other_ chosen one and was also wearing a _Utilikilt_ ™, styled in a very similar fashion as his, ”go check on Minhyunie for me, will you? I have to—I have to go. Somewhere.”

Guanlin blinks at him, innocent enough not to notice Seongwu’s state of distress. “Sure, hyung”, he nods, allowing Seongwu to gently push him towards the door before opening it.

Seongwu doesn’t stay to hear Guanlin shower his hyung with compliments.

 

 

 

The photoshoot goes by like a blur to Seongwu.

After willing his unwanted erection down (it took him ten too many unsexy thoughts that somehow always circled back to the very idea that Minhyun could make any of them sexy—yes, even the dying grandmother one) and hiding in shame inside a toilet stall for about fifteen minutes before Jisung found him and threatened to kick down the door for making everyone late, Seongwu tried not to think much about what he had seen. It wasn’t supposed to be something out of the ordinary, anyway; he’d gotten used to Daniel prancing around half-naked in their room, and walked in on the other boys changing so often he started to wonder if they should start a _knock first_ policy in both apartments. Why would it be different now with Minhyun?

They take several pictures in those outfits – group shots, then pairs and trio shots – thankfully, Seongwu thinks, he gets paired off with Guanlin and grouped up with the other “tougher-looking” boys, such as Daniel and Jihoon. Minhyun, in his full pantyhose-and-shorts glory, remains at a safe distance most of the time – not that Seongwu paid any attention to him at all, except maybe he barely remembers anything from everyone else’s outfits but Minhyun’s.

He also remembers briefly panicking when he sat on the floor for the final group shots and Minhyun got to sit on the chair next to him and he had to go through ten minutes of staring directly at the other boy’s knees – and the part of his thighs that the shorts didn’t really cover, who had the _brilliant_ idea of dressing someone with such long legs in above-knee shorts??

By the time they’re done and ready to change into a tamer, more familiar set of clothes for the non-risqué part of the photoshoot, Seongwu feels about ready to die.

It doesn’t help that the first dressing room he enters to change is also the one Minhyun chose for himself, and that he takes a lot longer than he was supposed to trying to 1. not stare again, especially when Minhyun takes off the tights, and 2. trying to take off his own clothes while also concealing the half-boner he’s been fighting off for the past few hours.

The gods must be really testing him.

That night, after turning in early to avoid anyone’s proposals of ordering take-out and watching movies – after avoiding _Minhyun’s_ much-tempting jokbal offer, the worst form of betrayal he could pull on himself –, Seongwu has the first of many disturbing dreams involving Minhyun and his new-found feelings for him—for his _legs_.

He wakes up the next day with a boner and a very strong headache. They are also the first of many to come.

 

 

 

It wasn’t that Seongwu was avoiding Minhyun.

It wasn’t like he _could_ avoid Minhyun, anyway, with their packed schedules and packed vans and packed practice rooms—every place felt too small when one had to share it with ten other boys. There wasn’t really a way to specifically avoid Minhyun when the maximum distance between them in closed places was of three to four meters, at most; what Seongwu did, instead, was to make sure there would be always at least one out of the nine remaining people with them between him and Minhyun. He was definitely not ready to face the other boy yet, not when all he would see whenever he looked at the other boy were flashes from their photoshoot day, of his naked torso and of the dark pantyhose clinging to his very toned legs—

He couldn’t help it, at this point. What was once a subject he never really paid much mind to – his apparent obsession with his friendship with Minhyun – was starting to take a worrying turn. He had the whole _attraction_ part figured out; losing a few nights of sleep to gay panic and an irrational fear of wet dreams took its toll on him eventually, and one simple conversation with a very practical Kang Daniel ( _jesus, hyung, you either like dick or you don’t, both are valid and we’ll love you anyway_ ) made that pill much easier to swallow.

So, accepting that he likes boys too: done. That was a lot easier than he had expected, if he had to be honest to himself. Good thing he had a best friend as open-minded and helpful as Daniel to rely on.

Accepting and understanding the reason he realized he liked boys: … Seongwu would get there, eventually.

To be fair, it was easier to accept that _hey, guy legs – guy everythings – can be attractive, too,_ than that his entire hard-earned friendship with Minhyun was now in jeopardy because he’d caught stupid feelings and now couldn’t even _function_ properly in his vicinity.

It doesn’t help that Minhyun had started to notice – of course he would, Seongwu figures, they used to eat together almost every day and now Seongwu locks himself up in his shared room with Daniel whenever they have enough breathing room for a proper meal. There were many other things they’d do together – sitting together in van trips to their schedules, catching up with a drama or two late at night, going out on random evening walks, placing bets along the way over how long it would take until someone recognized them (and Seongwu would always ruin everything by waving back at the unsure fans that would occasionally stare at them) –, all of them things Seongwu had managed to avoid for three weeks and counting, now.

To say it was starting to make everyone a little uneasy was an understatement. Seongwu could tell Jisung was about ready to jump him with difficult questions and an ultimatum to fix whatever funk he was in, and that he was just biding his time until the hectic schedules of their newest comeback was over to attack; Daniel had tried to have that conversation on his behalf more times than Seongwu could count, using his _roommate privileges_ to try to corner Seongwu, but he would always brush the younger off, urging him to go to sleep _or they’d be living hell the next day_. It wasn’t a lie, and Daniel was generally very tired and compliant during promotion schedules, since his own schedule was always more packed than everyone else’s. Jisung had chosen the wrong soldier to fight on his behalf.

The kids, less outspoken and generally wary of meddling into their hyungs’ affairs, would often watch in distress Seongwu practically _hiding_ among them whenever Minhyun entered the same room as him, in a desperate attempt to mingle and go unnoticed – often a very bad, terrible plan, because Minhyun was the _most affectionate_ with the maknae line, and being within his _vicious hugging_ line of fire was very, very dangerous to Seongwu’s general decency.

Hiding with Jaehwan would do the trick – their main vocal wasn’t as meddlesome as Daniel or Jisung, and when even Sungwoon started eyeing him suspiciously, he was his last – and only – resort for some peace of mind. Jaehwan wouldn’t ask, Seongwu wouldn’t tell – it was the perfect arrangement, really.

The only problem is. Seongwu knows things are bound to reach a breaking point. He can’t just avoid Minhyun until December 31st 2018 – hell, he doesn’t even think he _wants_ to. Or that he’ll last that long without running his mouth to someone and effectively ruining everything.

For now, he would have to keep living like this. Maybe making a vow of silence and never speaking in front of the others would work, too.

 

 

 

Halfway through the fourth week, Minhyun manages to corner Seongwu, sitting by his side in the back of the van on the return trip of a particularly exhausting schedule. He sends the younger a challenging look when he’s about to bolt back to the front, freezing him into place and botching his brilliant _Escape Minhyun_ plan. Unable to hold Minhyun’s gaze – yet still unable to refuse him anything –, Seongwu slumps back against his seat, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply when he feels Minhyun’s side press up against him as he slightly squeezes him against the wall to make room for Woojin to join them in the back.

Seongwu tries not to look down – which, of course, means that the first thing he does when he opens his eyes is look down. At their pressed together thighs. At Minhyun’s thighs, specifically. At how thick they look when he’s sitting; had he been doing extra work out in the weeks Seongwu had spent avoiding him? They looked extra meaty.

(It takes one, two blinks, a _begone, demon_ and a painful lip bite for him to look away and swerve off that train of thought; another sneaky look down and he realizes it’ll probably take more than that in the long term)

He doesn’t remember Minhyun feeling this warm against him from all the other times they’ve sat together before; he doesn’t even remember Minhyun _touching_ him this much. He kind of misses not being suddenly hyperaware of every little physical contact they make.

Their ride is a quiet one, at first; Minhyun says nothing to him, looking ahead most of the time after their tentative stare-off, lips pressed together as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to it.

Not that Seongwu had been staring when Minhyun was distracted, or anything like that.

Danger comes when the entirety of the van goes suddenly quiet; it’s a long ride home, and they had been running or two to three hours of sleep, which meant that any idle moment they had between schedules had been turned into impromptu nap time.

Except for a very uncomfortable Seongwu, of course. But he’s had his eyes closed since the van started to go silent, so at least he can pretend.

“Hey.”

Of course Minhyun is _also_ awake and doesn’t buy it. Goddamnit.

Seongwu ignores him, feigning sleep.

“Seongwu.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, further giving away his act.

“I know you’re awake, Seongwu.”

He hears some rustling before Minhyun nudges at his side, pressing impossibly closer to him. Seongwu winces but keeps his eyes closed.

“You can’t ignore me forever, Seongwu.”

 _Watch me_ , Seongwu retorts mentally before he feels a second, stronger nudge.

“Please talk to me”, Minhyun whines, and heck, Seongwu can tell he’s pouting without even having to open his eyes. The mental image alone is enough to make him soften up and he relents, letting out a low grunt to let him know he’s listening.

Minhyun sighs in relief and presses closer to him, lowering his voice to a whisper; Seongwu feels his warm breath on his neck, too close to his burning ears. He fights the urge to yell at him to back off—and the other, more primal urge to just lean closer and let skin touch skin. “Can I ask you something? Just one question.”

Seongwu hums, still unwilling to let his voice betray his feelings (discomfort, shyness, maybe a boner? He really doesn’t want to check nor adjust his pants right now).

“Did I do something wrong? Why have you been ignoring me?”

Now, this urge is one Seongwu can’t ever fight – the one to talk before thinking.

“That’s two questions”, he blurts out, so easily yet so defensive it’s almost on reflex; it feels both worth it and like the biggest regret of his life when Minhyun actually _laughs_ at it, hot breath fanning over Seongwu’s neck like it’s nothing, sound and feeling alike sending jolts down his spine and stomach.

It also hurts a bit that Minhyun really _does_ sound relieved at his joking around; as much as Seongwu wants to tell his good friend that he’s not – directly – at fault for his recent behavior, there’s no way he can do that without giving himself away. It sucks that he made Minhyun feel like he was the one in the wrong, though. He makes a mental note to buy Minhyun food or some dumb Transformers figurine to make up to him somehow, then misses what Minhyun says next. He finally blinks his eyes open, staring dumbly up at Minhyun before he realizes the latter had been _really_ all up his personal space, noses bumping for a moment before both shyly pull away.

“Shit, sorry—“, Seongwu mumbles before he can reason with himself that he wasn’t really the one at fault, there. “What did you say…?”

Minhyun blinks back at him, just as dumbly (and there’s something almost magical in the amount of compatibility of their brands of _dumb,_ Seongwu thinks), and it takes him a beat more to realize it’s his turn to speak. “Oh. I just said that I’m glad that got you talking to me again.” His eyes soften and he smiles down at Seongwu, so fondly Seongwu feels his heart tighten in his chest. “I missed you.”

Seongwu smiles back; he can’t help it, really, the urge to please Minhyun is stronger than him. “I missed you too”, he blurts back, too fast to stop himself before realizing that was not the brightest thing to do.

And Minhyun wouldn’t let him off the hook for that; his smile fades into disappointment the moment Seongwu closes his mouth. “Then why are you avoiding me?”

Well, there’s no way out of answering that question, now.

As much as Seongwu likes to take pride in the fact that he never stutters, being this close to Minhyun right during his worst gay crisis as of yet ( _second_ worst – maybe the one in the dressing room had been the actual worst – and not something he should be reminded of, not with how Minhyun’s thigh keeps pressing against his and reminding him of _other things_ about that fateful day) does little to nothing to help him properly articulate his thoughts. It takes a feel stumbles for him to find his words, which makes it all the worse, because Minhyun no longer finds the situation funny and distressing him further would only lead that altercation to disaster lane.

“You did nothing wrong”, he manages out, shuffling nervously in his seat as if trying to become one with the van wall. “I’m sorry I made you think you did.”

“What happened, then?”, Minhyun asks, clearly not satisfied with that answer.

“You do realize you said _just one question_ but you’re in your fourth now—”

Minhyun stares sternly at him, clearly no longer in the mood for joking around. “Seongwu.”

Seongwu gulps, pulling at his collar only to realize he’s sweating. _Really going through all the schoolgirl crush stages, huh_ , he muses bitterly. “Look, I—I can’t really explain to you why what’s happening is happening, but just—”

He groans in frustration; he can’t just say _I’m avoiding you because ever since I saw you in nothing but those stockings all I’ve been thinking about is how much I want to dick you—but, like, in a romantic way_.

(and, for a moment, he does think he _just said that_ , filter be damned, judging by the very confused look Minhyun is giving him; soon enough he realizes he’s probably let silence stretch for longer than what’s deemed socially acceptable)

“I’m just—”, he continues, at last, “—going through some things right now.”

_Like my huge boner for you—my actual boner but also my emotional boner for you and how I’m ruining our whole friendship because I keep thinking about how good your legs looked that day—_

To be fair, it’s a lot to go through, he reasons with himself while still trying to keep all that information to himself and still properly convey his thoughts to Minhyun.

“It’s not you—you’re definitely not the problem. But I need some time—some time alone right now.”

Minhyun frowns, lips forming another small pout. “You’re still hanging out with Jaehwan, though. And Daniel.”

“Daniel’s my roommate, I don’t really have a choice”, Seongwu tries to defend himself. “Jaehwan—well, he doesn’t talk much, so it doesn’t count.”

“Do I talk too much?”, Minhyun asks, looking genuinely hurt.

“That’s not what I meant”, Seongwu throws his hands up defensively. “Minhyunie, you’re a great friend, you know that, right?”

Minhyun gives him a skeptical glare. “How am I supposed to know that when my closest friend here doesn’t even talk to me anymore?”

Seongwu shushes him, lifting a finger to his lips before he can stop himself. “Please, just listen to me. You’re a good friend.  A great one. The best I could ever have hoped for.”

No reaction; Minhyun all but stares at him with even more skepticism in his eyes. Seongwu sighs and tries again.

“Which is why I need to come back a better person for you. Work these issues out, will them away, hell if I know what to do, but—you deserve better than what I can offer you right now.”

“You’re starting to not make any sense, Seongwu”, Minhyun warns him; Seongwu presses his finger further into his warm lips, not quite aware of how up in the slightly older boy’s space he’s getting.

“Shhh”, he whispers, slowly removing his finger when Minhyun quiets down and – unconsciously, at that, he swears – settling his hand on the other man’s warm, warm thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “Don’t worry your pretty legs about it.” He pauses as he realizes what he just said, then clears his throat in slight embarrassment. “Head. I mean head. Just trust me on this one. Give me one more week.”

It’s stupid, and he knows it’s stupid. He can’t wish his feelings away in a week, nor act normally around Minhyun ever again, but he can’t make Minhyun even more upset about something that is his own mistake.

After what feels like forever, Minhyun finally sighs and slumps back in the van seat, seemingly resigned with that answer. “Fine. I’ll trust you. Sorry for putting you in the spot like that.”

He returns the favor – the _thigh squeeze_ one –, and that’s when Seongwu realizes what he just did, removing his hand off Minhyun’s leg as if he’d just gotten burnt.

If Minhyun notices how stressed that action alone made him, he makes no comment, and Seongwu appreciates that.

It’s a bumpy, awkward ride. They fall into uncomfortable silence, Seongwu all too aware of Minhyun’s body against his and still reeling from their conversation, and Minhyun sending him worried glances every now and then before looking back down at his phone. Trying to will himself to sleep is hard, and the dreams that come when he does manage to shut his eyes for a few minutes make everything even harder.

By the they’re home, and Seongwu opens the door of his room to a warm bowl of galbijjim and a cheery note from Minhyun wishing him a good night, he knows he won’t be able to ditch his feelings for Minhyun in only one week.

 

 

 

One week goes by, then two, and Seongwu finds that avoiding Minhyun continues to be easier than to will away unwanted feelings. Guilt eats at him every night; he can tell Minhyun is trying his best not to look upset, and failing at that. He’s upset at himself, too—procrastinating on salvaging treasured friendships is not a noble thing to do, especially when their time together is limited enough as it is (and that’s another subject he tries his best to avoid altogether).

He knows he might be going too far the day he ditches Guanlin’s monthly shopping trip just because Minhyun will be the only other adult going with them. He almost dials back when he sees tears in the youngest’s eyes at the rejection, but the idea of spending _any_ time alone with Minhyun whenever Guanlin had to leave for the toilet or the dressing room makes his stomach churn.

And it’s that specific action that has the worst consequences, he realizes when Jisung barges into his dressing room and locks the door, immediately placing himself in front of it to properly corner Seongwu.

“Ong Seongwu!”, he shouts, startling the younger out of his daydream; Seongwu barely registers the fact that he has no way out of that, immediately getting up from his chair before stopping at his tracks and just _staring_ at their leader as he blocks the way. “I’ve had enough. Everyone’s had enough. You better spill whatever the hell is going on with you or Minhyun or I’ll stage a full group intervention.”

Seongwu blinks, heart rate picking up as Jisung’s words hit him right in the middle of his chest. “I have—“, he nearly yells, ready to jump at the elder to make for the door, “—no idea what you’re talking about, hyung.”

Jisung’s grip tightens on the door handle. “Don’t you dare play dumb”, he warns. “It’s been _months_ —”

“Six weeks and a half, actually”, Seongwu quickly corrects him, drawing a smirk out of the leader’s face. So much for playing dumb.

“Six weeks and a half”, the elder concedes. “You know why I’m here? Because I finally decided to ask Minhyun what’s going _on_ with you guys, and he told me to ask you. Care to explain?”

Seongwu puts his arms around himself defensively. “I have nothing to explain.”

“He looked pretty upset when I asked him, you know.”

 _Now that’s a low blow,_ Seongwu groans as he feels a pang in his heart. _Goddamnit, hyung._

“Daniel’s been asking about you, too. Says you’ve been really quiet lately. He thinks he’s done something to make you mad.”

Seongwu winces. He doesn’t need Jisung to remind him he hasn’t been an ass only to Minhyun.

“Did you know you made Guanlin cry yesterday? He was so worried his hyungs had a fight and he panicked over the sheer _idea_ of having to pick a side—”

“Okay, that’s enough”, Seongwu snaps. Using _Guanlin_ to make him talk was just too low. “I’m not—I’m not mad at Minhyun. I mean, he’s not the problem—well, he _is_ kind of the problem, but _I_ am the problem more than _he_ is the problem, and I’m having trouble trying to figure out how to get rid of—”

Jisung rolls his eyes and waves him off to shut him up. “Will you ever learn how to explain something without rambling?” He smirks, effectively earning a glare from Seongwu. “There are easier ways to say you like Minhyun, you know.”

There were many reasons they chose Jisung to be their leader; Being the oldest was one of them; his skill for always hitting the nail on the head when it came to figuring out every member was another. Seongwu hates that these two reasons were exactly what compelled him into not lying his way out of that situation. _Fucking age hierarchy_.

The elder pushes further. “Please, Seongwu—everyone can tell there’s something going on between you two.”

“There’s nothing going on between us!”, Seongwu protests, scowling at Jisung’s exaggerated sigh.

“Maybe not now, but _something_ must have happened two months ago—”

“Six weeks and a half, ago”, Seongwu corrects him. “On a Wednesday, if we have to be precise—”

“ _Aha_ ”, Jisung exclaims, smirking at the younger. “Something did happen. Care to share? You can spare me the juicy details, but—”

Seongwu groans, loud and annoyed, which only earns him an unimpressed look from Jisung. The leader doesn’t move from his spot in front of the door; Seongwu considers his possibilities of going against him, knowing about his weak knees and that ankle spot that always knocks him down, aware that he’s at least bigger in height. Overpowering Jisung could be an easy feat if he really put his heart into it.

Unfazed, Jisung singsongs a taunt. “I’m waiting. We don’t have much time, but trying to escape me now will only make things worse for you later.” He smirks, uncharacteristically evil even for him. “Next time I will bring in my henchmen. One of them might as well be Minhyun.”

“ _Fine_ ”, Seongwu grunts after a stretched-out period of silence, slumping in defeat back onto his chair. “A few weeks ago—”

“Six and a half”, Jisung chimes in cheekily, earning a glare from Seongwu. He holds his hands up jokingly. “Okay, go on.”

“So, a few weeks ago we had that photoshoot, right? The one where we wore all those weird outfits and that pretty much made the entirety of Korea dress in fishnets because Daniel wore them—”. He waits for Jisung to make another cheeky comment, but he only nods at him to continue, barely concealing a smirk but still watching him intently. “And Minhyunie… he wore those tights, right, the black ones? And I—I happened to walk in on him wearing _only those_ _tights_.”

“Spicy.”

“Shut up”, Seongwu glowers at the elder when he snickers at his own comment. “Anyway, seeing him like… _that_ , it made me feel things.”

“You mean it gave you a boner—”

“No!”, the younger yells, unable to look at Jisung in the eye. “…Yes”, he admits a few seconds later. “But it wasn’t just, like, a dick boner. It was—it was a _heart_ boner.”

Jisung wrinkles his nose in distaste. “You’re really gonna call your crush on him a _heart boner_?”

Seongwu brushes him off. “My feelings, my choices. Anyway, that… made things unbearably awkward between us, because it took me a while to figure out my heart boner was _really_ a heart boner—the _not straight_ part wasn’t that bad to figure out, talking to Daniel did help me a lot—”

“Daniel knows you like Minhyun too, you know”, Jisung tells him casually. Seongwu gapes at him, betrayal written all over his face.

“Why didn’t he say so!”

The elder shrugs. “I mean, everyone knows. Daniel was just kind enough not to bring it up while you didn’t look ready. Also, you kind of ghosted him for a while there, too, didn’t you?”

Seongwu bites his lip, looking apologetically at his hyung. “…I didn’t want him to ask.”

“My point exactly. That’s what I’m here for.”

“To intimidate me into telling you everything about my undying attraction for Minhyun?”

“No, dummy”, Jisung rolls his eyes. “To tell you to _do something_ about it. Denial won’t take you anywhere.”

Seongwu squints. “But I just told you I’m not in denial—that’s precisely _why_ I’m avoiding Minhyun. I’ve accepted my fate. I have it bad for him.”

“There’s nothing wrong with accepting you’re in love with him, Seongwu.”

The younger can only stare at Jisung in disbelief. “Are you even listening to what I’m saying, hyung?”

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Jisung’s advice to be helpful; much like Daniel, the leader had helped him through a few uncomfortable situations before, back when they were roommates in the old dorm, be it family issues or just other sorts of unwanted feelings that got in the way of his normal daily functioning. Whatever Jisung is trying to say right now, however, sounds anything but wise and helpful.

“I am”, Jisung tells him easily, hands moving over the handle to unlock the door. “And I’m telling you to talk to Minhyun about whatever feelings you might have for him. It’s been months—”

“One month and a half”, Seongwu insists.

“That wasn’t funny the second time you said it, Seongwoo”, the elder deadpans back. “I don’t think you can will your feelings away anymore. Just… sort this out, fuck it out of your system, I don’t know—”

Seongwu gasps. “You do realize that you’re our leader and you probably shouldn’t be telling your members to fuck each other, right?”

Jisung only shrugs before he opens the door. “Anything to have all _eleven_ of us back. Who knows, it might work for you two. The tension’s been annoying since way before you realized you liked him, you know. Your new-found leg fetish isn’t doing much to help, either.

“Hey””

“You have three days”, comes Jisung’s final warning. “Or I’ll take matters into my own hands and I’d like to think you’ll want to take charge of your life on this for a first.”

He leaves the dressing room, shutting the door behind him before Seongwu can process what he just said (and proceed to get righteously mad about it).

 

 

 

Three days fly by without Seongwu moving a finger to end his strange situation with Minhyun. They’re kept as busy as they can be, going through schedule after schedule, as it usually is when one has too many brand names to contractually flaunt, anyway.

The fourth day is a Saturday – a Music Core day Seongwu spends far, far away from all the other members until late in the evening, when he’s so tired he just wants to drag himself up to the eleventh floor and fall face-first onto his soft, soft bed – and maybe order some food to lazily eat while he’s at it.

Back when he was in good terms with Minhyun, his friend would be the one in charge of ordering food for him, a considerate gesture of someone who knows Seongwu’s exhausting Saturday routine by heart, and they’d eat together in the eleventh floor while watching the kids play videogames in the living room or perched over a tablet or laptop to watch a new drama episode. Things were never dull with Minhyun; needless to say, the past few weeks without him had been pretty bleak, so far.

So, when Seongwu walks into the 11th floor apartment, only to find it completely devoid of people except for the _one person he had been avoiding_ , it’s hard for him to feel upset. Hell, he had been craving that exact company for _months_ , now.

(for _seven_ weeks, if he had to be precise, but Jisung was no longer there to tell him what to do)

All Seongwu can make out of the person sitting on the living room couch is a mop of soft brown hair, the red hues long gone, before they quietly turn their head to look at him.

He had expected that to happen at _some_ point that year, but not right after Jisung threatened to take matters into his hands.

Seongwu never claimed to be the brightest person.

“Welcome home”, Minhyun says softly before standing up from the couch, thankfully dressed in an oversized black hoodie and sweatpants just as large-looking, making him look more like a blob than an actual person.

Which is _good_ , because this way Seongwu can almost forget Minhyun has legs at all, much less pretty ones.

(keyword being _almost_ )

When Seongwu says nothing, because no matter how badly Minhyun dresses, Seongwu’s first response is always to _just stare_ , Minhyun scratches his head sheepishly and breaks the awkward silence. “I thought you’d be hungry after work today so I ordered some jokbal.” He smiles, idly gesturing at the kitchen. “Like the old times. I’ll heat it up, you make yourself comfortable.”

He leaves for the kitchen before Seongwu can say anything – his response time _did_ slow down a lot in those past two months. He dumbly sits down on the couch, far from the spot Minhyun had been in, and considers taking out his phone and calling Daniel for help, but seeing as _no one_ seems to be around, he figures the younger might have been strictly instructed not to pick up any calls from Seongwu.

His phone buzzes as if on cue; a message from Jisung confirms all his worst fears.

_From: Jiddung-hyung_

_took the kids out for dinner + pajama party on the 9 th floor ;) you better enjoy cuz you’re not getting another chance like this so soon_

So _that_ was what he meant by _taking matters into his own hands_.

He’s still staring half-panicked at his now blackened out phone screen when Minhyun comes back with two hot plates of food; the slightly older boy seems unfazed with just how out of it Seongwu looks, placing the plate on the coffee table in front of him before settling himself in one of the armchairs, keeping a safe and respectful distance from the other boy.

Seongwu feels so grateful he could kiss him.

Not that it would help matters in any way.

He chances a glance at Minhyun, who is already happily digging at his own food.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?”, Minhyun asks before blowing at a piece of meat to cool it off. “I ordered from that place you said you liked the most.” He scrunches up his nose in slight distaste. “There’s soju in the fridge. Beer, too. I didn’t know which one you liked the most so I made sure to buy both.”

Seongwu could really kiss Minhyun right now, he thinks as his heart flutters and his stomach does weird flips. On second thought, maybe he should go through this sober. And dinnerless.

“I’ll pass the alcohol”, Seongwu finally manages to say before he warily grabs at his plate, sniffing at the delicious pork smell wafting from it. His stomach churns, not entirely displeased, but too jittery to accept any food. “But thanks”, he remembers to add when Minhyun blinks in surprise at him. “For the food and the drinks. I was. Really hungry.”

Past tense. If Seongwu tries to eat anything right now, he knows it won’t stay in his stomach, and the very last thing he wants is to further embarrass himself in front of his closest friend slash the guy he likes.

Not that much of this matter, because Minhyun is grinning that cute and cat-like grin at him and he bites into his empty chopsticks whilst trying to pretend to eat because he wants to stare some more.

Minhyun chuckles and looks away, probably wanting to give Seongwu a break from being a _mess_. Hell, he just _knows_ Jisung told the other man everything; why isn’t he saying a word about it?

Why are they eating quietly like Seongwu didn’t spend the past two months running as far as he could from Minhyun’s existence within his vicinity?

Why is Minhyun so _at peace_ while they eat?

It hits too close to home, to how they used to be before Seongwu decided to ruin everything; quiet Saturday nights where they’d quietly bask in each other’s presence, eating together despite Minhyun previously pranking Seongwu into believing they wouldn’t. Low laughs, knowing looks, small talk with the kids, playing – and failing at – games with Daniel and Jihoon – Seongwu misses it all. To think that he had wasted two months of their already limited time together was infuriating—it’s even more infuriating that Minhyun looks so _ready_ to forgive and move on, as if Seongwu hadn’t been deliberately hurting his feelings for almost two months.

Minhyun, who is placidly eating his jokbal right in front of him, looking so at peace with their current arrangement that Seongwu finally reaches his breaking point.

“Are we really gonna pretend I didn’t ignore you and wasn’t an ass to you for two months?”

Minhyun blinks, biting into the piece of meat halfway into his mouth as he slowly looks up at his friend.

“Are we really gonna do this? Are you gonna act like you don’t have every right and reason to be mad at me?”

Seongwu loses it when all Minhyun does is blink again.

“You can’t just barge in here and—and treat me to dinner and pretend you didn’t get the cold shoulder from me for the longest time—what are you doing, Hwang Minhyun?”

Minhyun waits until he stops talking, then sets his plate down on the coffee table, deliberately taking his time. “I’m treating a good friend to dinner”, he says calmly, setting his hands on his lap. “To let him know we’re good, no matter what he has to say to me.”

It’s really hard for Seongwu to resist the temptation to bang his head against the wall in frustration. Or to jump Minhyun for being so confusingly reasonable about the whole thing. Anything, really, as long as he didn’t have to live through that frustratingly anticlimactic moment. Why couldn’t Minhyun be a _normal_ human being and just berate him for what he’d done?

Unless…

“Did—did Jisung hyung tell you anything? Oh my god—“, he exclaims when Minhyun’s ears turn red, “he told you—”

“He told me to talk to you tonight”, Minhyun hastily replies. “To—to sort things out.”

“What else did he tell you?”, Seongwu presses on as Minhyun looks away, the red of his ears reaching his face. “Come on, Minhyunie, I know you’re not telling me the whole story.”

“W-well”, Minhyun stutters, not uncharacteristically so when it came to him being caught lying. “He did… he did also tell me to—”

Seongwu doesn’t let him finish, way past his breaking point now.

“I knew it—I _knew_ he was gonna snitch on me. So he did tell you? That I like you? That I’ve been losing sleep over this for _months_ now because I can’t will these feelings away but also because you keep messing with me in my dreams and that’s why I can’t even _look_ at you when I’m awake? That I’ve been obsessing like crazy over your body—don’t get me wrong, I like your personality well enough, but just—did you know you have really nice legs? Ah, Hwang Minhyun, did you know you’ve been driving me crazy just for _breathing_? Did Jisung hyung tell you all this?”

All air is gone from Seongwu’s lungs by the time he’s done with his Epic Rant; he takes one deep breath that leaves him shaking; it feels good to let these things out, he thinks for a brief moment before realizing what _exactly_ he had let out.

And now it’s his turn to avoid looking at Minhyun at all costs, while a long, extremely awkward silence takes over the living room.

“I don’t think he even _knew_ half of those things”, Minhyun mutters under his breath after what feels like forever; Seongwu barely catches it before eagerly looking up at the other man, dreading and anticipating whatever he has to say next. “Jisung hyung didn’t—he didn’t really tell me anything like that.” He chuckles, but it’s not a mocking laughter like the one Seongwu anticipates after making a fool of himself like that. “I kind of had a hunch that was it, though.”

It takes a second too long for Seongwu to register that last sentence, and that alone is enough to almost make him jump out the couch and at Minhyun’s neck. “You _knew_? All along?”

Minhyun shakes his head, looking way too cheeky for someone who just had to sit through possibly the weirdest confession someone could make. “I said I had a _hunch_. I’m glad I was right, though.”

“You… are…?”, the slightly younger man asks dumbly, blinking at Minhyun.

“I mean”, Minhyun shrugs matter of factly, “the alternative was that I did something to piss you off, and I really didn’t want us to drift apart like that.”

“Oh.”

“I’m also glad it’s mutual.”

“Oh.”

“…”

It’s not that Seongwu hears it; he just thinks he’s really entered the Twilight Zone, or some place worse, where everything is set up to make him believe things are _going his way_ only to have the rug pulled from right under his feet.

 _Is this what they call the gay panic?_ , he asks himself before he realizes he has been in a constant state of _gay panic_ for much longer than that.

“Seongwu”, Minhyun tries again.

Seongwu blinks again, mouth agape. “Huh?”

“I said it’s mutual.”

“You did?”

“I did. I like you too, Seongwu.”

Denial kicks in.

 _Oh_ , Seongwu thinks, _he won’t fall so easily for that_.

“Are you pulling my finger, Hwang Minhyun?”

Minhyun tilts his head to the side, squinting in confusion. “Why would I do that?”

“Is this a hidden camera prank?”, Seongwu insists, looking around as he tries to steady his heartbeat, Minhyun’s _I like you_ still ringing loudly in his ears. “Is everyone hiding and ready to jump out and laugh at me?”

“I don’t think anyone would even _let_ us pull a prank like that”, Minhyun reasons, pouting impatiently. Seongwu still eyes him suspiciously. “I mean it, Seongwu.”

“This is _not_ what I suffered through for two months for”, Seongwu grumbles, not even sure why he’s getting angry over it.

Minhyun raises an eyebrow. “What, you wanted me to reject you?”

“Yes—I mean, no, but—”

It grows increasingly more difficult for Seongwu to find an actual reason to be angry at the outcome, especially when Minhyun gets up from his seat and grabs him by the collar. “Would you like me to prove that I’m not lying?”

From this close, Seongwu can make out how full Minhyun’s lips really are up close, how smooth his skin looks—and probably feels—, how intense his eyes look half-lidded and full of something Seongwu doesn’t dare yet call desire— “Anything for the hidden camera, I guess”, his stupid mouth says before he can wax any more poetry about just how _pretty_ Minhyun looks from every possible angle.

Minhyun all but rolls his eyes before pulling him in for a kiss.

Seongwu had had this dream before – the one where Minhyun initiates things, pulls him closer by the neck or the waist, presses impossibly soft lips against his and moves in a rhythm only they can dance to. Things would never stop at that, because dirty minds never stop at precious, innocent kisses they probably don’t even deserve, but it’s that moment when their lips touch that Seongwu cherishes the most, that he wants to keep to himself for as along as eternity lasts. He’s a sap, but at least he acknowledges he’s one.

Needless to say, his dream could never compare to the _real thing_ – to Minhyun’s lips shyly pressing against his, perhaps even softer than he’d imagined, to the scent of flowers and fresh laundry that’s so very _Minhyun_ and that Seongwu had missed so much, despite having never felt it this close, to the taste of _finality_ – and of pork, which admittedly makes it all the more real.

Before he knows it, his hands are circling around Minhyun’s biceps, pulling him closer, closer, until his knee gives in and folds over the couch, by his thighs. It’s Minhyun, again, the one bold enough to swipe his tongue over Seongwu’s lips, tentative at first, experimental in its touch, until Seongwu parts his mouth and lets it in.

Amidst the mess of wandering hands and tongues, and the haze that comes from the realization that _this is really happening_ , when Seongwu comes to his senses he has a whole Minhyun straddling his legs on the couch, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his jaw as his own hands attempt to grasp firmly at the great amounts of thigh right within their reach. They feel somewhat slippery to the touch, his hands sliding over the sweatpants fabric but never fully gripping at flesh.

Now, Seongwu had his fair share of experiences with legs before, and that was an uncommon occurrence. He wouldn’t complain, just yet, though, not when Minhyun is sucking so eagerly on the spot right under his earlobe, too engrossed to notice the other man’s struggle.

Their mouths briefly find each other again in one last searing kiss before they break apart for air. Minhyun, looking as disheveled as his breathless pants sound, leans his forehead against Seongwu’s as they quietly chuckle at each other.

“So how’s that for proof?”, the slightly older man asks, out of breath but still cheeky.

“Mmm”, Seongwu muses, touching his lips to the corner of Minhyun’s, leaving a butterfly kiss there before pulling away to properly look at him. “I don’t know. I might need more evidence.”

His hands travel upwards while Minhyun laughs, leaning in for another long, calmer kiss. Seongwu finds the hem of the hoodie and sneaks his hands underneath, intent on finding some skin after having his _thigh adventures_ slightly frustrated.

Underneath the hoodie, he finds the waistband of the sweatpants, silently complimenting himself for his navigation under so much baggy clothing. It feels a little odd, at first, to have someone so much heavier than the girls he was used to on his lap, and to feel bigger hands – although not _that much bigger_ , but he would never tell that to Minhyun – roam over his body. It’s a good sort of odd, however, and more than enough to make him sure that whatever he feels for Minhyun—both attraction and _fondness_ – is very much real, as is their current makeout session.

He touches what seems to be the waistband of Minhyun’s underwear, pulled up way too much, Seongwu thinks. They end at Minhyun’s waist—they feel much thinner than any kind of boxers he’s ever seen.

He stills in his kiss, hands roaming over the exquisite fabric underneath Minhyun’s clothes, prompting the other man to pull away, intrigued.

“You okay?”, Minhyun asks, not very eloquently. “I thought we—I was thinking we could keep at it for a little longer. It’s not like anyone’s coming, anyway—”

“Minhyunie”, Seongwu gently interrupts him, finding the hem of whatever high-waisted _thing_ Minhyun was wearing and pulling at the elastic band. “What is this?”

He lets go of the elastic, watching as Minhyun winces when it slaps at his skin. Minhyun immediately freezes and looks away shyly, as if they hadn’t just been all over each other seconds ago. “A-ah”, he laughs, awkwardly at that, “remember what Jisung _did_ tell me?”

Seongwu feels his stomach drop, dread and something akin to unhinged excitement pooling down his lower stomach. “What. What did he tell you”, he manages to say without tripping over his words.

“He told me—“, Minhyun’s hands wander down Seongwu’s chest, then slide over to the hem of his own hoodie. “He told me you first realized you liked me when I was—“. He pulls the hem up, slowly revealing a stretch of see-through dark fabric over his stomach and up to his waist. “When I was wearing these.”

All Seongwu can do as he takes in the waistband of the black pantyhose wrapped around that small waist and flaring hips, is swallow thickly.

“You—you did this for me?”, he asks warily, fingers idly sliding over the fabric.

“What can I say?”, Minhyun lets out a breathy laugh, “I sorta had high hopes for tonight.”

Seongwu stares at him, feeling something burn within himself, before hurriedly pulling Minhyun downwards again, crashing their lips together.

“God”, he says, punctuating every word with a kiss, “I’m so sorry, Minhyunie”, he huffs when Minhyun laughs against his lips, not done yet, “I’ve been an ass”, he tightens his grip on Minhyun’s waist, “and you’re still doing _this_ for me.”

“Apology accepted”, Minhyun replies in between kisses, gently ruffling Seongwu’s hair when they pause for more air. “I can’t believe it took _this_ for you to apologize.”

 “Sorry”, Seongwu apologizes again, looking up sheepishly at him. “You kinda caught me off guard tonight, you know.”

“Sure”, Minhyun fake pouts. “Just say you only like me for my legs and go.”

Seongwu pouts back, relishing at their banter, at how things are somehow back to normal but _even better_. “Nooo”, he kisses Minhyun’s jaw, “I like you for your personality, too. And for your face.”

“And for my legs”, Minhyun insists, a smile tugging at his lips.

Seongwu slides his hands down Minhyun’s legs for good measure. “Okay, and for your legs.”

They giggle, staring at each other; Seongwu relishes in how fondly Minhyun looks at him—and in how much it’s the same way Minhyun had _always_ looked at him.

“Now”, Minhyun bites his lip, eyes glinting in mischief. “Would you like to go to your bedroom to take a better look at them?”

Seongwu’s eyes widen before he almost knocks Minhyun over in his haste to get up and _move_.

He should probably thank Jisung later, he muses as Minhyun straightens himself up and pulls him by his hand towards his shared – and blissfully empty – bedroom.

That would be a long night.

But not the kind of long night Seongwu would complain about.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this ended in no smut but!!!!!!! a spicy sequel is in order.


End file.
